From Cannes, with Love
by JamesLuver
Summary: While in France, Anna purchases a present that she thinks her husband will enjoy.


**A/N:** First things first, I apologise in advance if there are any stupidly glaring spelling errors, or missing words, or sentences that don't make sense in here. I finished writing and editing it through Doc Manager because my version of Microsoft Word has effed up and won't let me open anything. Bloody thing. Also, excuse my extremely poor French. I haven't uttered a word of it for the last five years, and even then I only knew the very basics. So I'm sorry for any errors that might be there.

Secondly, the description of the garter was inspired by a post on **teamhousemaid**'s Tumblr. The garter's description is not very similar to the picture at all, but it was that post that inspired this in the first place, so it's only right to include it. If you're interested, there's a link to it in my profile under the _Inspirations_ section.

Thirdly, the daft piece of French "lingerie" in the middle of the story was also inspired by a picture that I found when I was struggling to come up with another item to use here. The picture of the piece in question can also be found under the same area in my profile.

Last but most definitely not least, this piece is dedicated to **fuzzydream**, who wanted me to write garter 'fic. It's not exactly what you wanted, but I hope it is sufficient anyway. :) (And you still need to write garter 'fic too! :P)

**Disclaimer:** If _Downton Abbey_ was mine, Anna and Bates would be very busily – and very happily – finding new and imaginative ways to work that garter into their sex life. /noshame.

* * *

_From Cannes, with Love_

Once again, as she had almost every day this week, Anna found herself outside Madam Agard's. Her heart was thumping in her chest. Her insides were writhing. She glanced both ways in the crowded street to make sure that no one was paying attention to her, then cast her gaze back to the shop's display window. It was so proudly lit, showcasing the wonderful items inside to the world. Anna felt herself blushing as she peeked inconspicuously at them all. She had never seen anything like it before in her life. Back in England, no one would ever dare to open such a shop, never mind broadcast it so vivaciously. And yet here, in France, no one batted an eyelid as their gazes swept from the little tea shop on its left to the shop selling paintings on its right.

It was rather exciting.

Checking both ways again, Anna sighed. She'd been dithering like this all week. Ever since she had stumbled across the shop on her first day out in the French streets of Cannes, she had returned every time that she had taken a long morning walk. The idea was there, niggling away in the back of her mind. She knew what she wanted to do. But the question still remained if she was brave enough to.

She didn't know why she was being so conservative. Here in France, propriety seemed to have flown out of the window for Lady Mary and Mr. Matthew. They had not risen in the morning once yet, which had allowed her an increase in leisure time before returning to start her chores for the day. So if even Lady Mary Crawley didn't care about what people thought of her here in France, then why was she so nervous about walking into a French lingerie shop?

Well, there was the problem, she supposed. It was a _lingerie_ shop. Not a nice little bookshop. And this was in public. At least Lady Mary's matters were taking place behind closed doors, where no prying eyes could see them. That was very different indeed.

_Stop being silly, Anna,_ she tried to tell herself firmly. _It's not as if you're doing anything wrong._

No, she was just looking. Although she couldn't deny that she was very interested. It would be terribly wrong of her to enter such a place, but she wasn't sure if she could resist the temptation much longer. Fear was seeming like a poor substitute for desire. Anna Bates had never been scared of anything before. She wasn't about to start being scared now in a place where no one knew her and people couldn't judge her.

Because, plain and simple, she needed something to hold onto. Hope was a very fine thing, but when it was only a metaphysical thing, it could be very hard indeed. She knew that she would continue to strive for her husband's freedom for as long as there was breath in her body, but sometimes it would be nice to have something there, something corporeal to remind her of what they could have in their future, something to keep her determination burning bright.

Something from a shop such as this would be the perfect thing to drive her forward.

It was not the most ladylike of truths, and Anna would never dream of repeating her thoughts to anyone, no matter who they were, but it was true. In recent weeks she had found it increasingly difficult to focus on much of anything, especially at night time. Gone were the torturous nightmares about her husband being found guilty and hung for crimes that he hadn't committed. Now that they were both feeding off the relief that accompanied his reprieve, Anna found that more and more often she was dreaming about his hands on her body, touching her in all of her most intimate places, raking her fingers through his chest hair, feeling his mouth hot against her own, the exquisite sensations of him moving inside her. Countless times over the last few months, she had awoken feeling so hot and achy, cursing their situation to high hell.

And here, in France, the dreams had only gotten worse. So she had made the decision that she needed something to hold onto. They _both_ needed something to hold onto. And what better motivator than the thought of them truly being together again as husband and wife?

She hadn't breathed a word of her fantasies to her husband, of course. She was sure that he was having a difficult enough time as it was without her making things worse by lamenting their unenviable situation. And she was sure that he was torturing himself enough with his own fantasies without having hers to fuel him too.

But all the same, they needed something to cement their hopes and dreams.

Yes, she had been outside this shop so many times before. In the end she had never been able to quell her fears, but today she was determined to. The display seemed to beckon her closer, entice her.

What would John say if he could see her now? Would he be appalled by her actions? Or would he find it arousing? In their one night together, she remembered him calling her his naughty girl as he felt how ready she was for him, and that low growl had only served to affect her more. Would he say the same now if he could see her?

Oh, she knew he would. Closing her eyes, she imagined that face expression. That knowing smirk. The crinkling eyes. God, how she loved him. And how she wanted to make him smile with her antics.

It wasn't just a want to buy a present for him, for them. It was a necessity.

So, casting one last guilty look around and taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she pushed open the door.

The tinkling of the bell seemed far too loud in the quietness of the room. Anna stepped inside quickly, closing the door firmly behind her. All at once the outside noise was muffled, as though this was an entirely different world.

In a way, Anna supposed it was.

Taking advantage of the emptiness, Anna let her gaze sweep over the contents of the room. But God, there was so many things. So many decidedly _risqué_ things. Anna's heart began to thump hard again. Corsets and stockings and shifts and camisoles –

_"Ah, bonjour mademoiselle! Je m'appelle Madame Agard. Bienvenue."_

The loud voice made Anna jump at once, and she almost knocked down a stand of chemises as she swung around to face the newcomer. She was surprised to come face to face with a middle-aged woman with a round, kind face and rather wild hair.

_"Bonjour,"_ she replied quickly, flushing. And then, stumblingly, she added, _"et madame, s'il vous plaît. Madame Bates."_

The woman smiled at her. "You are English, yes?" Her English was heavy with her French accent.

Anna nodded, grinning apologetically. "Yes, I am."

"I could tell immediately. Your pronunciation is very strange."

Anna had to grin at the irony of that, but she was grateful that the woman had switched into English. Although she had been studying the basics of French hard, she would never be an accomplished converser in the language. Passed good morning and other pleasantries, she hadn't made much headway.

"Now…what can I help you with?"

All at once, Anna was reminded of just exactly where she was. She twisted her hands together, flustered. "Well, I'm not sure exactly…"

"It is your first time in a shop such as this?" Madame Agard asked her knowingly.

Anna nodded.

"Then this is of no matter, _madame_. Now, first I must ask why you are wanting an article of clothing from this shop."

Anna's face flushed scarlet. How could she answer that? She couldn't very well tell the truth: that she was wanting an article of clothing from the shop to excite her husband, to drive the both of them wild when he was finally released from prison. She couldn't say that there was something about the French culture that had made her fantasise all the more boldly about being reunited with her husband: fantasies that included him too mad with longing to unclothe either of them fully, fantasies that had him panting heatedly against her skin and, more recently, fantasies that involved her modelling various articles of clothing for him, seeing how far she could push him before he snapped.

"I just thought I'd try something new," she mumbled instead, averting her eyes to a display of provocative-looking nightgowns in case Madame Agard could read the lies in her gaze.

"I see," said Madame Agard, though her tone was amused. "Well, _madame_, you have certainly come to the right place if you are looking to try something new. Now come, follow me. I will help you."

The woman bustled off, and Anna had no choice but to follow meekly. She was rather glad that the shop was deserted; she was sure that she would have been much more embarrassed if there had been people in there to stare at her. After all, the French would not be accustomed to seeing an English woman in such a place.

Madame Agard came to an abrupt halt.

"We will start here!" she declared, and Anna peered around curiously.

_Here_ was right at the back of the shop, where a fine collection of corsets were hanging. Anna couldn't stop herself from blushing at the sight of them. They were so unlike any of the corsets that she'd seen back in England. The English ones were so rigid, so cumbersome. These French ones…they were brightly adorned with lace and other little accessories in the most inconvenient of places.

"These are the latest fashions," Madame Agard informed her as she selected one from a rail and brandished it in front of her. "You like?"

"It's…it's very nice," Anna said quickly. She wasn't quite sure if she should continue to stare or not.

_"Oui,"_ Madame Agard agreed. "It is much nicer than the fashions you English have."

Anna nodded silently, not really wanting to comment. While it was most definitely true, she didn't really feel comfortable admitting such a thing. The thinking of a typical English woman or not, she was used to being the image of propriety in the presence of others.

_Oh, for heaven's sake. You lost that image as soon as you walked through this door, Anna. You most certainly lost it when you started to think about such things in conjunction with your husband. So find whatever it is that you're looking for and stop pretending to be such a lady._

"Can you imagine yourself wearing something such as this?" questioned Madame Agard as she continued to brandish the corset flamboyantly. Anna wished that she'd stop it. It was making her feel even more nervous.

She furrowed her brow. Could she imagine herself wearing it…?

The answer was, in short, yes. Peeling her clothes off to reveal it to her husband. Watching his eyes darken as he took in the sight of it, so very different from the usual corset he was accustomed to. His hands gliding over the material, coming to stroke over the tops of her breasts. Her breath hitching.

"Well? As you can see, this design ensures that the corset ties can be pulled even tighter. This gives us the perfect opportunity to show off our better assets…"

"What?" Anna said breathlessly.

Madame Agard raised an eyebrow. "Come now, _Madame Bates_. You are a happily married woman, _non_? This gift is for your husband, _non_?"

Anna winced. Yes, she was happily married in the most basic sense of the word. But not in the more complex sense. She desperately wished that she was.

Madame Agard was perceptive. "You are not as happily married as you wish? Does your husband work away?"

"Something like that," said Anna, grateful that the older woman had made the assumption and that she didn't have to explain their unenviable position to anyone.

"Then this is the perfect item!" the shopkeeper declared. "Look at it! Your husband will be very happy, I guarantee! You can surely see your husband liking it, _oui_?"

Oh God. Anna could certainly imagine her husband liking it. In fact, her thoughts had taken a decidedly intoxicating turn for the worst. In her mind, she could see the two of them now, sprawled out across the bed, or even across the floor, her husband's mouth melded enthusiastically to the top of her breasts. It was certainly a good idea. Without a corset, Anna was rather disappointed with the way that her breasts looked. A corset would certainly help to give them the illusion of being fuller and more rousing than they actually were. But, on the flip side the idea of making love with a steel barricade like that coming between them was a bit unappealing. Anna was sure that John would feel the same. She liked to be able to feel his bare chest pressed up against her own. She didn't want to be confined in a corset. And she remembered the way that he'd cupped her breasts in his palms on their wedding night, declaring them utterly perfect.

Madame Agard appeared to be reading her thoughts. "No? Your husband would not enjoy it?"

"No," Anna decided. "It is truly very lovely, _madame_, but I think I would like to purchase something different."

"Ah, you English are all so picky. No matter! We will find the perfect gift for you somewhere!"

The housemaid had to smile at the shop owner's enthusiasm. Following her deeper into the store, she watched as Madame Agard pulled out another item. It was peach and frilly, the silken band thick. The lace that adorned it was a pretty pale lemon, standing out from the rest of the intricate detail and drawing her eyes to it immediately.

"What's that?" she asked tentatively.

Madame Agard looked appalled. "You do not know what a _vis à tête_ is? _Mon seigneur_!"

Anna dipped her head a bit contritely, feeling bashful at her ignorance. "I'm afraid not."

"It is a head cap, of course!"

A head cap? Anna had the sudden urge to giggle, though she suppressed it with the greatest of efforts, not wanting to appear rude.

"...So you wear it on your head?" she asked.

The older woman looked at her as though she'd lost her mind. "But of course! Where else would you wear it?"

Anna shrugged, fighting a smile.

"Do you like it?"

No, she didn't. Not really. It looked a bit silly, though she would never admit that out loud. She could just imagine it on her head now. No, it wasn't the sort of item that she could possibly use to seduce her husband upon his release. If John was to ever see her wearing such an item, it was more likely to make him laugh at her than fall desperately into her arms, clawing off her clothes. And she herself would feel more than a little ridiculous parading around in such a getup. And John liked her hair free from even the loose braid that she wore it in to sleep, she'd discovered on their wedding night. He'd been enamoured by it, running his hands through it, shaking it free. The head cap would prevent all of that should she wear it. And, on a final note, she wore a silly little mop cap all day while she worked at Downton Abbey. It was nice to be free of that at night time.

"It's lovely, but I'm not sure if it's really for me," she answered tactfully.

Madame Agard sighed dramatically. "Very well. We will continue looking. But you English clearly do not spot the latest fashions when they are right in front of your faces!"

Anna wasn't quite sure how a silly bed hat was the latest fashion, but she wisely chose to remain silent as the older woman bustled passed her, veering to the left and almost knocking a display stand flying as she enthusiastically went in search of a more fitting piece for her finicky customer.

It was then that it caught her eye. The perfect present. She stopped short, staring.

Madame Agard noticed that she wasn't following any longer and turned back around. Anna didn't acknowledge her, too busy running her gaze over the exhibit in front of her.

"You like the garter?" the shopkeeper asked as she made her way to her side.

She nodded breathlessly. It was the most beautiful garter that she had ever seen. Pure white, it was adorned with three beautifully ornate flowers. They were stitched intimately into the material, and Anna could tell that whoever had made it had put a lot of effort into every little detail that was on there. The three flowers were all different; there was a rose, red and ripe and in full bloom; a lily, white and shy; a sunflower, bright yellow. All three were entwined, and the effect really was rather marvellous.

Madame Agard hooked the garter down expertly, then held it out to her.

"This is quite a beautiful piece," she said. "You see the flowers? They represent the different elements of female nature. The rose, it is a sign of both delicacy and strength, and love and passion. The lily, it represents innocence. The sunflower, it symbolises the great happiness that we can bestow upon people. Do you wish to hold it?"

Anna nodded breathlessly, reaching out and taking it with trembling fingers. The material was smooth and silky, and she shivered at the feel of it. It was perfect.

"Is the garter more to your taste, _madame_?"

Oh yes, the garter was much more to her taste. Anna closed her eyes for a moment. Images of John invaded her then. She could see him running his large, skilful hands up her legs, pushing her nightgown out of the way. They'd feel wonderful against her skin. And then he'd pause when his hands came into contact with the silken material.

_"What's this?"_ he would breathe, caressing her over the garter. She'd shiver and whine, pushing up against him. And then he'd either tell her to leave it on because he liked the idea of her leaving it there, or he'd remove it slowly and lazily from her body.

_"This in the way,"_ he'd say, and she knew that he'd take great pleasure in removing it – except he wouldn't remove it with his fingers, because the mood would require a much more erotic method than that; instead he'd lower his mouth to her. He'd grasp the material gently between his teeth, and he'd drag it down her leg that way, making sure that his teeth and tongue grazed her skin as he did so, and it would almost set her on fire, so stimulating the moment would be…

"_Madame_? Are you quite well?"

With some great difficulty, Anna forced herself back to the present. She was well aware of the fact that her cheeks were glowing.

"I'm fine," she managed quickly, trying to smile.

Madame Agard regarded her suspiciously for a moment, then shrugged with a muttered, "English," before returning to the point at hand. "Can you see yourself with such an item, _madame_?"

The image was there again, of her husband playing deliciously with the garter. It was lovely in its simplicity. It wouldn't cause any problems. She could hide it discreetly from sight and no one apart from her husband would be any the wiser about its existence. And it could be such an erotic, unobtrusive item. It would never get in the way of their lovemaking if John decided that he liked to see her wearing it, and it was simple and quick to remove if John should decide to do so.

_With his teeth._

Dear lord, she really had to stop thinking like that. It wouldn't get them anywhere.

"Yes," she answered zealously. "I think it's perfect."

Madame Agard nodded approvingly. "_Oui_. You are such a pale girl, it will go very well with your skin."

They began to make their way back towards the desk. The shopkeeper rounded it and began to open the till while Anna stood awkwardly by.

"I am sure that your husband will also be most pleased with your selection," Madame Agard said conversationally as she totalled up the cost for the item.

Anna made a non-commital noise in the back of her throat as she waited. She couldn't deal with those thoughts again right now. Perhaps later, when she was alone in her room, she could indulge in such fantasies, but she'd already been far too distracted by thoughts of her husband and herself in compromising positions today.

"Would you like it wrapped?" she asked.

Anna nodded hastily. The last thing she needed was to carry the garter out of the store in nothing but a bag.

"Any particular colour?"

The woman laid them out across the counter. Pale blue, light green, sensuous red, burnt orange...

"Red," said Anna. It was the most sybaritic colour there. It would at least serve as part of the seduction while her husband unwrapped it.

Oblivious to the housemaid's embarrassment, Madame Agard leisurely folded the garter inside some garish red paper. "When is your husband to return?"

"Sorry?"

"You mentioned that your husband is working away. Will he be back soon?"

The pain in her heart hit her so swiftly and unexpectedly that it almost made her double over. Her breath caught in her throat. Tears burned at the back of her eyes.

"I am sure that your husband will be most appreciative when he does return," continued Madame Agard, throwing a rogue wink in her direction. "You will keep it safe for him, _non_?"

She managed to nod weakly. What else could she do? She couldn't very well tell this woman the truth.

"Ah, _voilà_!" the woman said then, and Anna was thankful that there wouldn't be any more questions as the older woman thrust the package towards her and asked for the payment. Anna fumbled with her purse and extracted the coins with shaking hands.

_"Merci,"_ Madame Agard said. "And _au revoir, madame._"

Anna stammered a similar reply, then moved swiftly towards the door, furtively stuffing the package into her coat so that she wouldn't be granted any suspicious looks.

Once outside, she breathed a sigh, her shoulders slumping. The truth of her husband's whereabouts weighed profoundly on her heart. She couldn't bear to think about him, alone and tired and defeated, locked up in a place where he didn't belong. Would he ever be free to hold her and kiss her and make love with her? Would they ever be graced with the opportunity to raise a family of their own, free of the terrible circumstances that plagued them?

Her present was pressed against her ribs, shifting every time she breathed. And, somehow, it gave her strength. Yes, one day they would be afforded all of the opportunities that they so richly deserved. One day they would be free to love without consequence, without being judged. She would make sure of that. When she returned to England in just under a week's time, she would work twice as hard – no, one hundred times harder – to come up with the leads that would free her husband. No matter what, she would be successful.

The garter was an illustration of hope.

* * *

She returned home without incident and was just hurrying up the stairs to hide the package in her room when the door at the bottom of the hallway opened. Lady Mary stepped out, looking relaxed and more than a little satisfied.

Anna stopped at once, looking guilty, shoving the package behind her back.

"I'm so sorry, milady," she said. "I didn't know you were up yet. I went out for a walk and completely lost track of the time. I'll be with you in a moment."

Lady Mary waved her apology away airily. "It's no matter. I've only just got up." The expression on her face left Anna in no doubt as to how the young woman had been spending her morning. Unbidden, she felt a stab of sadness. She tried not to be jealous. But it still wasn't fair. Lady Mary and Mr. Matthew had had a whole month of doing whatever they wanted together. And she and John had had one night. One night to make love and make memories that might potentially have to last them a lifetime.

But no. Because she was going to get him free. She would die trying. And she had to keep positive. One day they would have everything that Lady Mary and Mr. Matthew had. And they would appreciate it all the more because of the trying challenges that they'd had to face to get to that point.

"Have you been shopping?" Lady Mary asked, noticing the package that she was failing to hide out of sight, and Anna wished she had chosen a more inconspicuous wrapping paper than the red that she'd settled on.

"Yes, milady," she was forced to answer.

"Is it for Bates?"

She nodded silently, not wanting to elaborate further.

"That's nice," said Lady Mary, obviously not picking up on her maid's reluctance to divulge anything more. "Will you give it to him when you go to visit him after we get back?"

Despite herself, Anna had to fight the urge to grin. "Well, I'll have to see." Somehow, she did't think the prison guards would allow her to present herself as a present for him to enjoy in his cell. Although the idea was more than tempting, even if it was rather depressing. After all, she thought, she'd been denied the right to know him intimately for almost an entire year. These things would be enough to wear on anyone after a while.

"I suppose you're right," Lady Mary continued, innocently oblivious to the fact that her maid's mind had wandered off in a decidedly more unladylike direction. "I mean, I suppose they're very particular about the things that a prisoner can receive."

"They are." And a garter wouldn't be one of the things allowed.

"So what happens if they won't let you give it to him?"

Anna smiled. "Well, I'll just save it for when he gets out." And then she'd model it for him. And he could peel it off with his teeth…

"Right, of course. You'll get there one day, Anna."

"We will, my lady. We will. Now, if you're wanting to get dressed, I'll be with you in just a minute."

"Thank you. I'll wait upstairs."

With that, Anna continued up the stairs, shifting the package to clutch it against her chest. And, despite their situation, she had to grin to herself. If someone had told her when she'd first met John Bates that eight years down the line she would be buying him French lingerie to enjoy, she would've blushed and told them that their head needed examining. And yet here she was.

When she reached her room, she dropped to her knees and pulled out her little case which she had stuffed under her bed. Opening it, she proceeded to burrow the garter beneath the modest sets of clothes that she'd brought with her. The last thing she needed was someone else discovering it and wanting to know what was inside the paper.

Their situation was not ideal. It was a million times better than it had looked just a few months ago, but whatever angle people chose to look at it from, there was nothing good about having a husband who was languishing in prison. And still, despite it all, Anna felt peaceful. She had a purpose in her life. She had frantically been composing letters to the people that John had directed her towards from Vera's address book. She could visit her husband every week, such was the kindness of the people up at Downton Abbey. And she was itching to see him again now. The trip had been an adventure, but she was glad that it was drawing to a close.

And just because this adventure was ending didn't mean that the rest of them were. Anna was already planning out the adventures that she could share with her husband when he was released. Trips to the seaside. Visits to nearby towns. Nights growing accustomed to each other and making love.

And many hours of enjoyment with her little French gift.

* * *

**A/N:** So, there we have it. If you notice any errors that I've missed, please point them out to me so I can amend them. I will probably return to this for a more rigorous edit once I have Microsoft Word back properly. I hope you've enjoyed this despite its less-than-polished finish; please leave your thoughts in a review. :)

Happy Downton Day!


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